c  -  ' 


'  VERSES 


.     : .  . .  '  •  . 


NORT  SHOR'  VERSES 


.  W  CAIJF.  LIBRARY.  MW  AWF.U» 


NORT   SHOR! 
VERSES 


By 
RICHARD  D.  WARE 


BOSTON 

LUCE  &  COMPANY 
1917 


Copyright,  1917,  by 
L.  E.  BASSETT 


CONTENTS 

TRANQUIL  McGRAW   i 

THE  MIGRANT   4 

THE  SMELT  SHANTY 7 

MA'  Lou'  ii 

THE  GIRLS 14 

THE  SANDPIPER   17 

THE  SILVER  THAW   19 

THE  COFFIN 24 

THE  CHICKENS 27 

THE  MASTERPIECE  30 

THE  LOBSTER  BOATS  34 

MR.    SALTONSTALL  37 

THE  GHOST  39 

THE  TEAMSTERS 42 

THE  HERRING  FISHING 44 

THE  POACHERS  46 

PHILOMELE    50 

THE  DANCE 52 

THE  LAWSUIT 56 

THE  SINKBOX  .  60 


2133625 


FOREWORD 

AFLAT  country,  covered  with  fir  and  spruce 
to  sandy  beach  or  wide  areas  of  marsh  or 
tundra.  Looking  from  the  sea,  an  untouched 
forest.  Looking  from  its  shade,  waste  and  desert 
places. 

Down  through  the  evergreens  come  shallow  rivers, 
thoroughfares  to  and  from  the  back  land  for  canoes 
and  dugouts,  here  and  there  the  cleared  land  of  farms 
along  the  banks. 

Off  shore  from  the  wide  mouths  of  some  of  these 
streams,  a  line  of  outer  beach,  cast  up  in  the  never 
ending  struggle  between  tide  and  current,  making  wide 
shallow  bays  between. 

Beach  and  bay  seem  salient  of  this  North  Shore  of 
New  Brunswick  between  the  Miramichi  and  Bay 
Chaleur. 

THE  BEACH 

The  gleaming  constellations  fade  away 
Till  in  the  east  alone  the  morning  star 
Shines  like  a  beacon  on  the  outer  bar, 
And  lights  its  pathway  far  across  the  bay. 
I. 


II.  Nort'  Shor'  Verses 

Into  the  sea  the  curtains  of  the  night 

Roll  down,  tinged  roseate  ere  they  disappear. 

While  overhead  the  opal  sky  grows  clear, 

All  radiant  with  the  great  sun's  dawning  light. 

Out  from  the  gloom,  far  as  the  eye  can  reach, 
Blending  with  sea  and  sky  into  the  mist 
Where  the  wide  bay  and  river  keep  their  tryst, 
Looms  the  dark  shadow  of  the  long  low  beach. 

All  desolate  it  lies  save  here  and  there 
A  gray,  storm  beaten  hut,  where  in  the  spring 
The  fisher  folk  their  hard  won  booty  bring, 
And  make  rude  shelter  till  the  winds  are  fair. 

A  band  of  horses,  scattered  lowing  herds 
Of  cattle  turned  half  wild  roam  there,  alone 
Of  all  the  beasts  to  claim  it  for  their  own 
And  hold  a  tenure  in  that  realm  of  birds. 

High  in  the  air,  arrayed  in  echelon, 

The  honking  geese  come  from  their  northern  isles. 

Across  the  sky  in  undulating  files 

Long  lines  of  sable  cormorants  wing  on. 


Nort'  Shor'  Verses  HI. 

Far  in  the  shallows  lonely  herons  stand, 
Like  sentinels  on  guard  upon  their  posts, 
Croaking  hoarse  warning  to  the  feathered  hosts 
Of  coming  peril  to  their  peaceful  land. 

On  the  low  bars  the  herring  gull's  harsh  cries 
Make  protest,  while  the  burgomaster  scolds 
For  some  rare  morsel  which  his  subject  holds 
As  treasure  trove,  and  clamors  for  the  prize. 

Like  flakes  of  foam  tossed  on  a  listless  wind 
White  kittiwakes  with  gentle  call  flit  by, 
And  whirling  hordes  of  restless  terns  give  cry 
Till  with  their  screams  the  very  skies  are  dinned. 

The  turnstone  chuckles  as  he  breaks  his  fast, 
The  strident  curlew  making  answer  shrill. 
The  yelping  tatlers,  watchful,  never  still, 
Mock  at  the  whistling  plover  speeding  past. 

All  these  and  more  join  in  the  symphony, 
Making  the  solitude  more  wild  and  lone, 
While  never  ceasing,  rolls  in  undertone, 
The  diapason  of  the  mighty  sea. 


IV.  Nort'  Shor'  Verses 

Many  of  the  people  who  live  here  are  French, 
descendants  of  the  old  time  Acadians.  Many  English, 
meaning  by  that  persons  of  English,  Scotch  or  Irish 
descent,  live  here  too,  and  it  is  natural  that  in  their 
intimate  intercourse  the  persons  of  both  races  should 
undertake  to  speak  the  language  of  their  neighbors. 
The  English  purport  to  speak  French,  rather  shame- 
facedly. The  educated  persons  of  French  descent 
speak  as  good  English  as  one  generally  hears,  but  it 
is  the  speech  of  the  Frenchman  of  the  farm,  the  fish- 
ing boat  or  the  lumber  camp  which  has  the  flavor  and 
tang  to  it  which  makes  his  English  interesting.  There 
is  no  fixed  standard  of  conformity.  It  is  doubtful  it 
a  given  speaker  would  express  himself  in  exactly  the 
same  way  a  second  time.  So  it  is  impossible  to  say 
that  all  the  French  on  the  North  Shore  speak  English 
as  I  have  attempted  to  set  it  down  in  their  mode  here. 
But  a  kind  of  dominant  form  appears  from  averaging 
personal  equations  and  that  I  have  endeavored  to  adopt 
and  adapt  to  verse. 

The  vocabulary  of  these  people  is  small  for  their 
lives  are  very  limited.  They  are  closely  in  touch  with 
the  seasons  and  the  occupations  and  food  supply  which 
come  with  them.  The  English  words  for  all  these 
things  they  know  and  use.  They  do  most  of  their 


Nort'  Shor'  Verses  V. 

swearing  in  English,  as  does  the  rest  of  the  world. 
Broadly  speaking,  they  have  an  English  vocabulary 
for  things,  but  not  for  thoughts.  They  still  think  in 
French. 

All  this  makes  the  words  at  the  disposal  of  one  who 
wishes  to  express  these  people  in  verse  very  few  in 
number,  so  perforce  one  must  be  simple  in  recording 
their  simple  themes.  In  the  matter  of  pronunciation, 
certain  words  which  would  never  even  force  a  rhyme 
in  academic  English  are  entirely  consonant  as  they  are 
spoken  on  the  Nort'  Shor'. 

And  now  to  some  of  the  people  there  and  the  things 
of  which  they  speak. 

R.  D.  W. 


NORT'  SHOR'  VERSES 


TRANQUIL  McGRAW 

Bonjou'  M'sieu';  McGraw?   Tranquil? 
La  maison  ?  Ouai ;  ou  demeure-t-il  ? 
Ouai,  je  comprends;  vous  parlez  bien 
Monsieur;  vous  etes  Americain? 
Je  croyais;  mais  je  parle  1'Anglais; 
Dat  be  more  easier  to  say 
For  you?    I  work  once  at  Bangor; 
I  know  dat  man — Tranquil  McGraw. 

He  fine  man  too ;  stonemason  ?     Ouai ; 
De  bes'  along  de  whole  Nort'  Shor' ; 
He  get  big  wages  every  day ! 
From  Burn'  Church  to  St.  Isadore 
Dey  sen'  for  heem,  an'  Chatham  too 
Sometam,  when  dere  is  work  to  do. 
De  Neguac  stone  church — you  saw? 
He  boss  dat  job — Tranquil  McGraw. 

De  pries',  he  proud  o'  dat  all  right; 
Fine  buildin'  for  de  peop'  live  dere. 
Out  in  de  bay  it  mak'  great  sight, 

i 


Nort'  Shor'  Verses 

An'  on  de  Sunday  for  de  prayer 
De  team'  dey  come  from  all  aroun' ; 
In  all  de  parish  you  won't  foun' 
One  team  dat  isn'  goin'  for 
Dat  church  he  bull' — Tranquil  McGraw. 


I  go  dere  once ;  de  priest  he  spe'k 
About  de  house  upon  de  rock; 
How  she  not  fall  in  de  eart'qu'eke 
But  stan'  up  strong  again'  de  shock 
An'  fall  not,  when  de  oders  fall; 
An'  all  de  eye  turn  to  de  wall. 
Dey  un'erstan'  good,  when  dey  saw 
God's  house  he  buil' — Tranquil  McGraw. 


An'  den  de  pries'  say  by  de  work 
You  know  de  man,  or  somet'ing  lak; 
Le  Bon  Dieu,  He  no  call  de  shirk 
Nor  tak'  to  Heem  de  man  dat  strike. 
An'  den  I  t'ink,  eef  He  call  me 
Some  day,  chez  moi,  at  Tracadie, 
I  be  all  right ;  pas  peur  pour  moi 
Eef  I  lak'  heem — Tranquil  McGraw. 


Nort'  Shor'  Verses 

You  bull'  de  house?    He  ees  de  man 
You  want  for  dat,  ah,  c'est  b'en  sure; 
He  lay  de  stone  to  mak'  her  stan' 
Jus'  like  de  rock  in  de  scripture. 
He  work  like  two  man  all  alone! 
He  mix  de  mort',  he  face  de  stone; 
He  fix  de  stove-pipe  so  she  draw, — 
He  dam  fine  man— Tranquil  McGraw. 


THE  MIGRANT 

We  tak  de  lobster  boat  one  day, 

Me  an'  de  ole  Philos 

An  sail  aroun'  besi'  de  bay 

Out  w'ere  de  codfish  was; 

Ten'  'leven  f adorn  w'ere  we  lay; 

De  Ian'  seem  almos'  los'. 

We  catch  dem  purty  good  all  right 

Until  de  tide  turn  nor' 

W'en  dey  seem  los'  de  appetite 

An'  won'  tak  clam  no  mor. 

An'  den  de  win'  she  come,  a  fright, 

Nor'wes'  right  off  de  shor'. 

Philos  he  say  she  goin'  to  las' 
An'  he  right  too,  ba  gee ! 
Be  for'  we  got  de  anchor  fas' 
She's  takin'  on  de  sea, 
But  we  h'ist  all  de  sail  we  da's 
An'  beat  for  de  gully. 
4 


Nort'  Shor'  Verses 

She  poun'  an'  jump  like  anyt'ing; 
I  never  see  de  wors'; 
De  squall  dey  hit  her  an'  she  swing 
Mos'  clear  off  on  de  co'rs', 
Wen  all  to  once  we  hear  de  sing 
Of  leetle  bird  dat's  los'. 

We  see  heem  comin'  'cross  de  wave 

All  jompin'  up  aroun'; 

One  tarn  he  mak  eet  de  close  shave, — 

We  tink  dat  tarn  he  drown, 

But  he  jomp  too;  he  purty  brave 

Way  off  dere  off  de  groun'. 

He's  comin'  for  de  boat  for  sure, 

An'  w'at  you  t'ink  o'  dat ! 

De  firs'  place  w'ere  he  come  aboar' 

Was  on  Philos'  ole  hat, 

Lak  fedder  trimmin'  de  girl'  wore 

He  sit  so  still  an'  plat. 

He  still!   He  soun'  asleep,  dat's  w'y; 

De  minute  he  Ian'  dere 

He  grab  de  hat  an'  close  de  eye ; 


Nort'  Shor'  Verses 

He  sure  all  be't  for  fair; 
An'  Philos  lay  de  hat  insi', — 
He  res'  mos'  quiet  dere. 

Bimeby  he  wake  all  right  encore; 

He  ruffle  up  de  coat 

An'  pick  for  bug  aroun'  de  boar' 

An'  mak  chirp  in  de  t'roat. 

He  seem  no  want  to  fly  some  more; 

Jus'  tromp  aroun'  de  boat. 

He  stay  wit'  us  de  whole  way  t'rough 

Till  we  come  in  de  bay, 

So  calm  an'  still  you'd  never  knew 

De  blow  outsi'  dat  day. 

An'  den  de  leetle  feller  flew 

Off  to  de  beach  away. 

An'  ole  Philos  he  say  lak  priere, 

He  watchin'  at  heem  go, 

"Wen  I  am  ole  an'  wore  wit'  care 

I  t'ink  I'd  lak  to  know 

Dere'll  be  a  boat  to  tak  me  w'ere 

It's  calm  an'  still,  jus'  so." 


THE  SMELT  SHANTY 

Dose  leetle  house,  tar-pape'  an'  lat'? 

Dey  everywhere  plaintee : 

You  ax  dey  use  for  tak  de  bat'? 

Non,  dose  be  smelt  shantee. 

De  fisherman  dey  live  in  dose 

De  winter  on  de  ice ; 

No  matter  how  de  col'  win'  blows 

Dey're  warm  you  be  surpris'. 

Eet  mos  lak  village  on  de  bay 
After  de  firs'  ice  come, 
Wen  all  de  man  mak  prepare 
An  breeng  de  leetle  home. 
De  smelt  be  leetle  feesh  all  right 
But  beeg  t'ing  for  de  peop'. 
Some  tarn  de  one  haul  on  de  night 
Pay  all  de  winter  keep. 

You  on  de  jomp  on  all  de  tide' 
De  fishin'  bad  nor  good, 
7 


Nort'  Shor'  Verses 

An'  res'  de  w'ile  dey  set  in  side 
An'  mak  pile  on  de  wood. 
Some  tarn  some  feller  fetch  de  treat 
Wit  some  frien'  dat  he  fonn', 
An'  all  pile  on  de  bonk  an'  seat 
An'  tell  de  yarn  aroun'. 

I  'member  me  I  hear  dat  way 

About  de  tarn  Jock  Breaux 

Get  mash  hess'f  de  mos'  firs'  day 

He  try  mak  new  seine  go. 

De  seine  he  never  work  befor'; 

She  shap'  lak  de  beeg  purse ; 

She  come  all  roll  up  from  de  stor' 

An'  have  to  spread  her  firs'. 

So  Jock  he  open  up  her  mout' 

For  measure  on  piquet 

An'  start  to  turn  her  insi'  out 

Befor'  he  mak  her  set. 

She  won'  come  out  so  he  crawl  in 

To  catch  hoi'  on  de  en' 

An'  den  hees  tro'ble  dey  begin 

Lak  w'at  de  devil  sen'. 


Nort'  Shor'  Verses 

He  mash  de  button  on  de  sleeve 

An'  w'en  he  try  feex  dat 

De  win'  she  give  de  seine  a  heave 

An'  she  knock  off  de  hat. 

He  grab  for  heem,  de  seine  grab  too, 

An'  mash  de  feet  aroun', 

An'  w'en  he  try  to  haul  dem  t'rough, 

She  mak  de  arm  fas'  boun'. 

An'  den  he  holler  an'  he  bawl 

All  tie'  lak  bag  o'  meal, 

An'  roun'  de  ice  he  flop  an'  crawl 

Jus'  lak  strange  kin'  o'  seal. 

Some  feller'  in  de  shantee  near 

All  come  a-jompin'  out, 

An'  can'  make  out  de  firs'  dey  hear 

Wat  all  de  row  about. 

Mos'  o'  de  word  he  lettin'  go, 
Jus'  same  w'en  makin'  priere, 
But  w'en  dey  see  ol'  Jock  dey  know 
Soch  t'ing  don'  come  from  dere. 
De  t'ing  he  roar  I  won'  tell  you ; 
Mos'  everyt'ing  he  say, 
An'  sure  I  hope  dat  de  bon  Dieu 
Have  turn  de  ear  away. 


io  Nort'  Shor'  Verses 

Dose  fellers  mos  die  laffin'  'fore 

Dey  get  him  out  again, 

An'  den  dey  feex  t'ing  up  once  more 

An'  help  heem  wit'  de  seine. 

But  dey  don'  chop  for  heem  no  hole, 

For  dere'  no  need  to  do ; 

De  way  ole  Jock  he  swear  dey  tol' 

Jus'  melt  de  ice  clear  t'rough. 


MA'  LOU' 

We  don'  see  de  ol'  Ma'  Lou' 
Polin'  up  along  de  shor' 
From  de  Portage  any  mor', 
For  he  die  de  fall  afor', 
An'  de  ole  patch'up  canoe 
She  done  for  too. 

Fonny  t'ing  dat  name,  dat's  true ; 
"Bad  wolf"  w'at  it  mean  you  say, 
For  he  not'ing  't  all  dat  way; 
Bon  courage  an'  toujou'gaie, 
Mos'  lak  some  kin'  dog  you  knew 
Nor  de  Ma'  Lou. 

All  hees  life  he  ron  de  bay 
In  de  ol'  patch'up  canoe. 
I  suppose  she  once  be  new 
Afore  all  de  leak'  come  t'rough, 
But  he  tar  her  up  some  way 
An'  mak  her  stay. 
ii 


12  Nort'  Shor'  Verses 

But  he  proud  o'  her,  no  fear, 
An'  de  ol'  man  alway'  say 
She  de  fas'est  on  de  bay 
If  he  feex  her  up  some  day; 
She  be  all  right  sure  nex'  year 
If  he  be  here. 

He  go  shootin'  in  de  fall 
On  de  ol'  sink-box  he  buil' 
Off  de  ol'  boar'  off  de  mill 
Leakin'  so  she  lak  to  fill 
Wen  dere  any  kin'  o'  squall 
Or  wave  at  all. 

But  he  proud  o'  her,  no  fear, 
An'  de  ol'  man  alway'  say 
She  de  tightes'  on  de  bay 
If  he  feex  her  up  some  day; 
She  be  all  right  sure  nex'  year 
If  he  be  here. 

An'  you  never  see  de  wors' 
Dan  de  gun  all  tie  wit'  tow 
An'  de  lock  all  rus'  up  so 


Nort'  Shor'  Verses  13 

Mos'  de  tarn  she  never  go ; 
Me,  I  let  de  bird'  go  firs' 
For  fear  she  burs'. 


But  he  proud  o'  her,  no  fear, 
An'  de  ol'  man  alway'  say 
She  shoot  hardes'  on  de  bay 
If  he  fix  her  up  some  day. 
She  be  all  right  sure  nex'  year 
If  he  be  here. 

Everyt'ing  he  have  de  bes' ; 
All  content  and  satisfy: 
Jus'  de  sam'  he  goin'  to  try 
Mak  her  better  by  an'  by; 
But  he  never  mak  success 
To  do  de  res'. 

An'  now  it  come  dis  year 
An'  de  ol'  patch'up  canoe 
An'  de  sink-box  an'  gun  too 
Dey  are  all  t'rough; 
For  dey  all  know  purty  clear 
Dat  he  ain't  here. 


THE  GIRLS 

De  winter  he  is  gone  at  las' ; 

I  know  she  soon  be  spring; 

De  goose  he  honkin'  in  de  bay 

An'  leetle  bird  mak  sing. 

But  dere's  no  need  o'  e'der  dem 

Be  tellin'  dat  to  me 

Wen  flock  o'  girl  come  back  some  more 

Head'  for  de  factoree. 

Girl',  girl',  girl'! 

Dey're  all  come  in  for  hirin'. 

Girl',  girl',  girl' ! 

Dey're  all  aroun'  de  place. 

Off  de  back  wood'  dey're  arrivin', 

Of!  de  farm'  dey  come  a-drivin' 

An'  ba  gee,  I  lak  to  see  dem 

Wit'  de  purty  laffm'  face. 

Dey  come  between  de  ice  go  out 
An'  w'en  de  herraw  run, 
Two,  t'ree  day  an'  dey're  gone  ag'in 
14 


Nort'  Shor'  Verses  15 

Ontil  de  fishin's  done. 

Dey  pick  de  lobster  for  de  can, — 

Dat's  w'at  de  job  dere  be, 

But  plaintee  girl  she  pick  her  man 

Off  on  de  factoree. 

Girl',  girl',  girl' !   etc. 

An'  w'en  she  got  heem  pick'  an  can' 

An'  tout  b'en  marie 

Dere  never  come  de  spring  some  more 

Dat  she  can'  kip  away. 

I  spec'  she  'member  her  dat  night 

W'en  he  ax  her  to  be 

Hees  famme — an'  squeeze  her  purty  tight 

Off  on  de  factoree. 

Girl',  girl',  girl'!    etc. 

W'en  she  gran'mere  she  jus'  de  same'; 

She  get  too  ol'  to  teach ; 

She  hire  wit'  de  yo'nges'  girl 

An'  rosh  off  on  de  beach. 

She  mak  de  pique-nique  over  dere 


16  Nort'  Shor'  Verses 

An'  one  t'ing  certainlee, 

De  girl'  stay  girl'  all  res'  her  life 

Off  on  de  factoree. 

Girl',  girl',  girl'!  etc. 


THE  SANDPIPER 

In  winter  tarn  it  purty  still  along  de  bay  an'  in  de  wood' 
Wen  all  de  bird'  dey  gone  away ; 
It  mak  too  col'  for  dem  to  stay 
Wit'out  no  wood  pile  an'  no  food, 
But  dey  come  back  jus'  soon  dey  can;  dey  lak  de 
Nort'  Shor'  purty  good. 

De  ole  goose  come  along  de  firs',  right  off  de  open 

water  show ; 

He  mus'  be  watchin'  off  de  sky 
For  see  w'ich  course  he  mak  de  fly 
So  queek  he  always  seem  to  know. 
He  soun'  good  too  w'en  he  call  out  de  spring  she  come 

an'  winter  go. 

Some    morn'    bimeby   you   wak'    by    hear    de    robin 

singin'  in  de  tree ; 
It  bon  fortune  he  in  your  fiel' ; 
De  grain  an'  potat'  mak  gran'  yiel' 
Were  de  firs'  robin  firs'  get  see. 
17 


i8  Nort'  Shor'  Verses 

It  fine  to  see  heem  sittin'  dere  an'  hear  heem-mak  d 
melodic. 

An'  w'en  de  ice  is  off  de  shor'  you  go  an'  tak  de  ol 

bateau 

For  set  de  net  for  de  herraw ; 
An'  roun'  de  crick  de  firs'  you  saw 
De  leetle  san'  snipe  an'  you  know 
De  musique  feller  come  for  shor'  w'en  he  burs'  out  ai 

let  her  go. 

An'  it's  toodle-e-oodle-e-oo !  he  say 
W'en  he  come  back  again  in  de  spring. 
It  mus'  be  de  springtam  get  into  de  t'roat 
For  de  fall  he  don'  say  mos'  not'ing. 
Toodle-e-oodle-e-oodle-e-oo ! 
Toodle-e-oodle-e-oo ! 

An'  de  leetle  bird'  song  be  so  full  o'  de  glad 
It  set  de  man'  heart  singin'  too. 


THE  SILVER  THAW 

De  silver  t'aw?    I  know  dat  t'ing; 

La  gelee  blanche  we  call; 

She  come  mos'  tarn  jus'  'fore  de  spring, 

Sometam  late  in  de  fall, 

Wen  de  rain  she  come  an'  it's  col',  col',  col', 

An'  she  freeze  on  de  bush  and  grass, 

An'  de  tree'  ben'  down  wit'  w'at  dey  hoi' 

On  de  branch,  touts  pleins  de  glace. 

Wen  de  storm  she  go  an'  de  sun  he  shine 

Ba  gee,  it  mak'  great  sight, 

Wen  all  de  fiel'  an'  bush  an'  vine 

Mak'  rainbow  wit'  de  light. 

De  win'  she  mak'  dem  jomp  an'  play, 

An'  'sh-la!   in  de  ear 

Soun'  leetle  bell  lak  cloches  des  fays 

Meex  een  de  air  you  hear. 

De  birch  she  purties'  of  all 
Sure  t'ing,  I  t'ink  mesel', 
All  w'ite  she  gleam  t'ru  de  crystal 
19 


2O  Nort'  Shor'  Verses 

Lak  gran'  bois  de  chandelle. 

De  spruce  an'  var  mak  not  moch  show ; 

Dey  froze  on  de  solid  jonk, 

Wit'  leetle  glaciers  dat  grow 

On  de  branch  out  from  de  tronk. 


De  silver  t'aw  she  fine  to  see 
Wen  de  wedder  turn  roun'  gran', 
But  all  tarn  too  I  'member,  me, 
She  hard  on  de  poor  man. 
Dere's  one  tarn  'bout  t'ree  year  ago 
Dis  parish  don'  forget, 
Wen  to  de  door  o'  Jean  Comeau 
De  silver  t'aw  brought  deat'. 


Jean  build  heem  small  cabane  dat  fall 

On  lot  by  de  Portage. 

He  got  no  money  mos'  at  all 

But  plaintee  bon  courage, 

So  femme  an'  bebe  dere  he  bring 

Wile  he  go  in  de  wood' 

An'  earn  de  money  till  de  spring 

Wen  he  mak  feex  heem  good. 


Nort'  Shor'  Verses  21 

So  dere  dey  live  de  winter  t'rough, 

Julie  an'  le  bebe ; 

It  purty  lonesome  out  dere  too, — 

Not  many  team  dat  way. 

I  go  dere  once  to  mak  de  smile 

An'  foun'  de  bebe  seek, 

An'  w'en  I  look  at  de  woodpile 

I  hope  dat  Jean  come  queek. 

'Fore  dat,  two — free  day  after  den, 

De  silver  t'aw  come  firs', 

An'  I  don'  mos'  have  min'  me  w'en 

I  never  see  de  wors'. 

De  win'  she  come  up  in  de  night 

Wil'  wit'  de  sleet  an'  rain. 

I  won'er  eef  ma  roof  on  tight 

She  blow  soch  horricane. 

Nex'  mornin'  Jean  he  come  to  me; 
He  come  out  day  before 
An'  spen'  de  night  at  Tracadie, — 
Want  somet'ings  off  de  store. 
Dat  night  he  buy  hees  groceries 
An  pack  on  hees  han'-sled 


22  Nort'  Shor'  Verses 

An'  come  my  house  so  moch  airlee 
I  mos'  not  out  my  bed. 

He  have  some  tea  an'  den  we  go ; 

I  tak'  part  of  hees  load. 

De  ice  she  ma'  de  fine  rainbow 

An'  good  haul  on  de  road. 

An'  Jean  he  laugh  an'  talk  so  gay 

De  winter  t'rough  all  right 

Dat  I  could  not'ing  'tall  to  say, — 

An'  den  hees  face  turn  w'ite. 

De  leetle  house  stan'  dere  all  right, — 

Wit'out  no  roof  at  all. 

De  win'  blow  heem  off  on  de  night; 

Mos'  to  de  road  he  fall. 

De  door  swing  open  mak  de  moan 

Lak  some  one  seek  to  die, 

An'  Jean  he  rosh  t'rough  dere  alone 

De  fear  in  bot'  his  eye. 

Den  me, — an'  oh,  Bon  Dieu  I  see 
Wat  pauvre  Jean  Comeau  saw 
Wen  he  come  foun'  hees  familee 
Deat  in  de  silver  t'aw. 


Nort'  Shor'  Verses  23 

Behin'  de  empty  stove  she  crawl, 
La  femme  wit'  le  bebe, 
All  wrap  in  quilt  an'  leetle  shawl 
To  keep  de  col'  away. 

She  do  her  bes',  but  ah,  tout  vain, 

Wen  roof  an'  stove-pipe  go. 

Dey  die  dere  in  de  col'  an'  rain 

Jus'  lak  we  fin'  dem  so. 

Tout  crystal  were  dey  settin'  dere, — 

An'  seem  de  bes'  rainbow 

Com'  jompin'  in  de  sunlight  w'ere 

Bebe  hees  quilt  mak'  show. 


THE  COFFIN 

Sometam  eet  strang'  how  t'ing  come  'roun' 

Nobody  know  pourquoi ; 

Mos'  any  place  you  go  you  foun' 

Some  fonny  t'ing  you  saw. 

Lak  tam  w'en  Beel  Comeau  he  die 

An'  dey  can'  fin'  no  boar', 

For  mak  sarceuil  for  heem  to  lie ; 

Dat  comical  for  sure. 

Beel  he  poor  man  but  he  use'  say 

Dere's  one  t'ing  he  mos'  proud, 

Dat  ees  he  bein'  pure  Frangais 

An'  not  lak  de  meex  crowd. 

He  say  France  mos'  gran'  in  de  worl' 

Of  all  de  ole  co'ntree, 

An'  show  you  w'ere  he  foun'  it  tol' 

In  book  you  call  his'tree. 

De  Revolution  dey  have 
He  say  mak  all  man  free, 
Instead  of  bein'  lak  de  slav' 
24 


Nort'  Shor'  Verses  25 

Lak  all  poor  man  mus'  be. 

He  know  de  song  dey  mak  dat  tarn,— 

De  Marseillaise  dey  call, 

An'  eet  fine  musique  too,  by  dam!, 

Eet  mak  de  back  jus'  crawl. 


Beel  go  to  Chatham  once  and  see 

A  French  sheep  by  de  shor', 

A  flyin'  flag  off  ole  co'ntree 

Dey  call  de  tri-color. 

Dat  flag,  she  mak  Beel  moch  excite; 

She  red  an'  w'ite  an'  blue, 

An'  he  get  purty  dronk  dat  night 

Wile  he  drink  her  "salut !" 


Well,  fore  he  die,  anoder  sheep, 
De  "Rolluf,"  she  get  wreck', 
An'  Snowball  buy  her  for  to  streep  ; 
She  purty  bad  I  'spec'. 
An'  on  de  deck  was  small  cabane 
De  boss  he  say  no  good, 
An'  give  to  me  an'  oder  man 
For  mak  de  fire  wood. 


26  Nort'  Shor'  Verses 

Insi'  de  cabane  all  paint'  new 
Wit'  plaintee  beeg  gol'  line; 
Mos'  every  color  on  her  too; 
Well  b'ys !  eet  mak  her  fine. 
But  we  bre'k  her  up  bes'  we  can ; 
Save  window  an'  de  door', 
An'  den  mes'f  an'  oder  man 
Pole  piece'  'cross  by  our  shor'. 

Den  Beel  he  die  afore  de  fall 
An'  hees  famme  she  sen'  wor', 
Dere  can'  be  enterrement  at  all 
Wit'out  she  get  some  boar'. 
An'  me,  I  t'ink  of  de  cabane 
An'  sen'  she  make  dose  do; 
An'  w'en  I  see,  dere  Beel  lie,  gran' 
Wit'  red  an  w'ite  an'  blue. 


THE  CHICKENS 

Ned  Bushey  he  tol'  me  dat  yarn  ; 

He  say  it  true  t'ing  too, — 

An'  ole  Ned  he  sure  hones'  man 

For  all  me  never  knew, — 

'Bout  dat  tarn  w'en  all  hees  poulets 

An'  rooster  too  he  tell 

Get  dronk  jus'  lak  in  de  ole  tarn 

De  night  afore  Noel. 

Dat  mornin'  he  drive  home  from  town 

Wit'  somet'ing  from  de  store, 

De  oatmeal,  rice,  raisin',  cornmeal 

An'  oder  t'ing  some  more, 

An'  den,  it  comin'  Chris'mas  tarn 

Wi't  all  dose  t'ing  to  eat 

He  get  two  bottle  rye  w'iskey 

To  mak  hees  frien'  de  treat. 

Le  gros  garden  he  bring  beeg  box 
To  tak  de  t'ing  he  fin', 
W'en  up  he  sleep  an'  down  he  go 
Jus'  right  on  de  behin'. 
27 


28  Nort'  Shor'  Verses 

De  bottle  bre'k,  de  bag  mak  tear ; 
De  rice  an'  meal  all  wet, 
Wit'  raisin  scatter  lak  gateau, 
Mak  plaintee  mess  you  bet. 

Dere's  not'ing  ain'  no  good  at  all, 

So  Ned  he  turn  aroun' 

An'  say  to  t'row  de  stoff  away 

Wile  he  drive  back  to  town. 

Wen  he  come  back  hees  famme  meet  heem ; 

"Come  queeck,  come  queeck,"  she  say; 

"Jus'  put  de  hoss'  up  in  de  barn 

An'  come  see  les  poulets." 

He  go,  and  dere  upon  de  floor 

Lie  de  'ole  familee, 

Upon  de  side,  upon  de  back, 

Touts  mort,  mos'  certainlee. 

Dey  t'ink  de  poison  come  to  dem 

An'  no  be  right  to  sell ; 

Jus'  same  de  famme  t'ink  she  make  save 

De  fedder  jus'  as  well. 

So  her  an'  de  yo'ng  girl  tak  hoi' 
An'  do  dat  job  all  right. 


Nort'  Shor'  Verses  29 

De  fedder  dey  mos'  fill  one  tick 
Wen  dey  get  t'rough  come  night. 
Dey  leave  de  bird  all  in  de  pile, 
Tak  tick  an  come  away, 
An'  all  han'  go  to  bed  bimeby, 
Ontil  com'  Chris'mas  day. 

Dey  all  wak'  up  airlee  nex'  day 

By  hear  de  rooster  crow, 

An'  dere  he  be  wit'  de  poulets 

Stan'  out  dere  in  de  snow! 

He  scratch  de  groun'  an'  lift  de  head 

An'  give  salut  de  morn', 

Not  so  moch  fedder  on  de  back 

Lak  w'en  he  hatch  an'  born. 

De  bird  don'  seem  moch  min'  de  col' 

A-walkin'  roun'  outsi', 

But  mak  de  sight  so  comical 

Ole  Ned  laff  mos'  to  die. 

An'  den  he  say,  jus'  to  heesee'f 

Wile  he  crawl  in  de  bed, 

"It  better  snow  have  on  de  feet 

D'an  ice  upon  de  head." 


THE  MASTERPIECE 

Too  bad  how  plaintee  feller  swear, 

But  dey  don'  mean  not'ing; 

Dey  jus'  mak  beeg  noise  wit'  de  mout' 

Lak  robin  have  to  sing, 

But  you  ought'er  hear  ol'  Jock  Breaux 

Some  tarn  he  let  her  go ! 

He  Frenchman  an'  spe'k  English  too, 

So  he  know  all  de  word'. 

He  keep  bot'  language  on  de  jomp 

De  wors'  you  never  heard, 

Sure  you  ought'er  hear  ol'  Jock  Breaux 

Some  tarn  he  let  her  go ! 

La  Veille  des  Touts  Saints — you  know  dat, 
Wat  come  roun'  in  de  fall, — 
De  boy'  an'  girl'  play  all  kin'  treeck 
An'  no  one  min'  at  all, — 
But  you  ought'er  hear  ol'  Jock  Breaux 
Some  tarn  he  let  her  go ! 
30 


Nort'  Shor'  Verses  31 

De  ol'  peop'  say  de  devil  com' 
An'  hunt  de  soul'  dat  night, 
An'  so  dey  burn  lamp'  an'  chandelle 
For  scare  heem  wit'  de  light; 
But  he  never  hear  ol'  Jock  Breaux 
Some  tarn  he  let  her  go ! 

An'  on  dat  night  dey  mak'  de  priere 

Afore  dey  blow  dem  out, 

Deirse'f  and  familee  for  save 

From  devil  flyin'  'bout. 

An'  you  ought'er  hear  ol'  Jock  Breaux 

Some  tarn  he  let  her  go ! 

Some  boy'  know  Jock  Breaux  do  dis  t'ing 

An'  bring  de  beeg  black  ram 

Wit'  ogly  eye  an'  long  curl'  horn 

An'  wait  for  hees  bed  tarn. 

An'  you  ought'er  hear  ol'  Jock  Breaux 

Some  tarn  he  let  her  go. 

Dey  watch  ontil  he  kneelin'  dere 
An'  den  dey  h'is'  de  ram, 
An'  in  de  middle  o'  de  priere 


32  Nort'  Shor'  Verses 

Right  t'rough  de  window — bam ! 

An'  you  ought'er  hear  ol'  Jock  Breaux 

Some  tarn  he  let  her  go! 


He  tak  one  look, — an'  w'en  he  see 

De  devil  dere  hese'f, 

Wit'  horn  an'  tail  an'  beeg  red  eye, 

He  almos'  los'  hees  bre'f : 

An'  you  ought'er  hear  ol'  Jock  Breaux 

Some  tarn  he  let  her  go ! 

De  ram  he  bawl  an'  shak'  de  horn 

An'  Jock  jomp  off  de  floor, 

Right  t'rough  de  oder  window-sash, — 

Don'  bodder  wit'  no  door, 

An'  you  ought'er  hear  ol'  Jock  Breaux 

Some  tarn  he  let  her  go ! 

But  w'en  he  get  outsi'  de  house 

An'  foun'  he  get  away 

He  shout  'bout  honder'  kin'  o'  damn 

An'  mos'  de  sam  sacres. 

Sure  you  ought'er  hear  ol'  Jock  Breaux, 

Dot  tarn  he  let  her  go ! 


Nort'  Shor'  Verses  33 

He  spen'  de  night  at  neighbor'  house; 

He  won'  dare  go  back  home, 

An'  you  go  ax  heem,  he  say  now 

Sure  'nuf  de  devil  com', 

But  you'll  never  hear  ol'  Jock  Breaux 

Lak  de  tarn  he  let  her  go ! 


THE  LOBSTER  BOATS 

From  'Scuminac  to  Shippegan, 

Along  de  'ole  Nort'  Shor', 

From  Miscou  on  to  Caraquet, 

An'  den  ag'in  some  mor', 

Men  are  workin'  on  de  fact'ree  beach' 

A  for'  de  bre'k  o'  day; 

All  han'  torn  out  to  ron  de  line' 

An'  get  de  boat'  away. 

Torn  out !   Lonch  ho !  Up  you're  gettin  dere ! 
Com' !    Let's  'ear  som'  feet  in  dere  a-t'ompin'  on  de 
flo'r! 

Wak'  up  b'ys !   Get  your  tea ! 

Shak'  up  b'ys!    Come  wit'  me 

Were  de  boat'  is  layin' 

Out  dere  on  de  shor'. 

Dey're  layin'  up  among  de  grass. 
De  keel'  all  frozen  in, 
But  dere's  a  crew  o'  t'orty  man 
34 


Nort'  Shor'  Verses  35 

To  haul  dem  clear  ag'in ; 
An'  de  fair  full  moon  is  shinin' 
To  'elp  dem  tak'  de  hoi', 
An'  eet  mak'  de  dirty  oiler' 
Look  lak'  suit'  o'  gleamin'  gol'. 


Torn  out !   Lonch  ho !  Up  you're  gettin'  dere ! 
Com' !    Let's  'ear  som'  feet  in  dere  a-t'ompin'  on  de 
flo'r! 

Wak'  up  b'ys !  Get  your  tea ! 

Shak'  up  b'ys !   Come  wit'  me 

Were  de  boat'  is  layin' 

Out  dere  on  de  shor'. 


'Eave  up  de  ballas'  into  her 

An'  stow  de  c'il'  o'  line ! 

Mak'  fas'  de  buoy'  an'  anchor'  dere! 

De  tide's  a-raisin'  fine ! 

All  clear!   H'is'  up  de  for's'l, — vite! 

De  wave'  is  at  her  snout ! 

Aboar',  aboar',  an'  min'  de  sheet! 

De  b'ys  will  shov'  'er  out! 


36  Nort'  Shor'  Verses 

Now  b'ys !  Lift  'er  b'ys !  Chock  a  roller  dere !  - 
Everybody  tak'  a  leetle  all  aroun'  de  boat ! 

Jack  'er  b'ys!  jomp  'er  b'ys! 

Walk  'er  b'ys !   homp'er  b'ys ! 

Dere  she  goes  a-rollin'! 

W'oop-ee!   she's  afloat! 


MR.  SALTONSTALL 

I  'member  me  mos'  twenty  year' 
De  firs'  Americain'  com'  'ere 
For  shootin'  on  de  beach  an'  flat'; 
Dey  seem  to  fin'  gran'  sport  in  dat. 
Dey  kin'  man  too ;  I  know  mos'  all  ; 
I  guide  for  Mr.  Saltumstall. 

At  John  Wishar'  dey  use'  to  boar'. 
I  get  my  man  'tween  t'ree  an'  four 
An'  den  we  sail  across  de  bay 
To  mak'  de  beach  'for'  bre'k  o'  day. 
De  bird'  sure  dere  jos'  at  de  dawn, 
An'  so  be  Mr.  Sollonstorn. 

'Fore  den  me  call  all  dem  bird'  snipe, 
But  he  know  t'orty  name'  ba  cripe', 
De  black  breas' — an'  de  red  breas'  too, 
De  torn-ston',  yallerleg,  corlew ; 
I  learn  dem  all  an'  plaintee  mor' 
Wen  I  guide  Mr.  Saltonstor'. 
37 


38  Nort'  Shor'  Verses 

One  tarn  we  camp  in  ol'  f  act'ree, 
An'  ba  gosh  how  he  'ate  de  flea ! 
Dere  plaintee  dose  out  on  de  beach, 
An'  sure  dey  go  for  heem  lak  leech. 
"De  leetle  fellers,"  w'at  he  call, 
Wen  I  guide  Mr.  Sontalsall. 

Wen  he  go  he  give  me  de  suit 
O'  oiler'  an'  hees  robber  boot' 
He  wear  up  'ere,  an  two  box'  shell'; 
Ba  gee,  he  tre't  me  purty  well. 
I  wish  he  comin'  back  nex'  fall 
An'  me  guide  Mr.  Sollumstall. 


THE  GHOST 

Las'  'arves'  tarn  Will  Wishart  foun' 
He  have  de  fine  crop  in  de  groun' 

O'  potat'. 

Dey  mus'  be  dog,  so  he  engage 
A  crowd  from  down  by  de  Portage 

To  do  dat. 

Dey  all  get  dere  plaintee  airlee  ; 
Will  kip  de  store  an'  have  good  tea 

An'  molass'. 

He  give  dem  wages  an'  four  meal' ; 
He  know  how  he  mus'  mak'  dem  feel 

For  work  fas'. 

All  hand'  work  hard,  de  girl'  an'  men, 
An'  Will,  he  glad  to  see  de  en' 

So  com'  queeck, 

W'en  after  workin'  two,  t'ree  day, 
Com'  evenin'  dey  say  dey  won'  stay, — 

Dey're  'omeseeck! 
39 


40  Nort'  Shor'  Verses 

Will,  he  sure  got  dat  t'ing  to  stop ; 
Mebbe  he  lose  de  'ole  hees  crop 

If  dey  go. 

He  say  dey  go  an'  get  deir  tea, 
An'  w'ile  dey're  eatin',  Will  dey  see 

Away  go. 

Dat  seem  all  right,  so  dey  hang  'roun' 
Ontil  eet  gettin'  dark  dey  foun' 

For  walkin', 

An'  den  de  'ole  crowd  start  along 
Wit'  plaintee  shout,  an'  laugh  an'  song 

An'  talkin'. 

Dey  com'  along  to  de  causeway 
All  proud  to  mak'  de  get-away, 

An'  stop  dere. 

From  out  a  bush  dere  com'  a  groan; 
An'  den  a  w'ite  t'ing  mak'  a  moan ! 

Two  drop  dere. 

One  holler  "qu'ous  ce  que  ci  que  c'aw !' 
Anodder,  "w'at's  dat  t'ing  I  saw 
A-wavin !" 


Nort'  Shor'  Verses  41 

"A  ghos'  !"  anodder  one  yell  out, 
An'  all  hand'  torn  aroun'  about 
A-ravin'. 

Two  feller  tak'  across  de  ma'sh, 

An'  Will  could  hear  mor'n  t'orty  spash' 

O'  fallin' 

As  he  stan'  dere  an'  wave  de  sheet 
He'd  wrop  hees  se'f  de  head  an'  feet, 

An'  bawlin*. 

Wen  he  com'  'ome  dere  was  de  crowd, 
So  scare'  no  one  dare  spik  aloud 

Wen  he  say 

"You  t'ink  you  stick  to  de  potat'? 
I  fought  I  hear  some  bawlin'  at 

De  causeway." 

Nex'  day  dey  dig  away  lak  mad; 
Mos'  every  one  t'ink  sure  dey  had 

A  warnin'. 

An'  w'en  com'  evenin',  dere's  de  crop; 
Ba  gee,  Will  have  to  let  dem  stop 

Till  mornin'. 


THE  TEAMSTERS 

Aw,  de  haulin's  well  mos'  done ; 

Anodder  touch  o'  sun 

Sure  mak'  de  road'  a  fright,  altogedder. 

De  ice  she  goin'  fas  an'  eet  never  boun'  to  las' 

Onless  dere  com'  a  shif  o'  nor'-wes'  wedder. 

De  ronner'  grit  an'  grin' 

An'  de  track  dey  leave  behin' 

Cut'  right  down  to  de  groun'  in  forty  place'. 

De  bridge',  dey  are  all  bare 

An'  she'  meltin'  everyw'ere. 

Eet  play  'Ell  on  de  riggin'  an'  de  trace'. 

Haulin'  down  to  Tracadie, 

To  Tracadie,  to  Tracadie, 

Any  man  who  say  can  'ave  de  job  for  all  o'  me. 

Liftin',  shiftin'  every  load, 

Haulin',  crawlin'  down  de  road, 

Dat's  de  trip  we  mak  to  Tracadie. 

But  w'en  we  all  get  t'rough, 
De  firs'  t'ing  dere's  to  do 
Is  mak'  de  start  de  neares'  place  is  handy, 
42 


Nort'  Shor'  Verses  43 

Wit'  som'  "square  face"  up  to  Joe' 

For  de  finger'  an'  de  toe' 

Or  leetle  drink  off  Charley'  ole  French  brandy. 

He  say  "  'ave  dis  one  wit'  me," 

An'  de  b'ys  dey  all  agree, 

An'  de  bottle  go  a-tackin'  'cross  de  table 

Till  dey 're  Jos'  a  leetle  full; — 

Den  dere's  Jos'  anodder  pull 

An'  we  go  an'  get  de  horse'  out  in  de  stable. 

Trottin'  'ome  from  Tracadie, 

From  Tracadie,  from  Tracadie, 

Anyman  an'  everyman  feel'  Jos'  as  fine  as  me. 

Jinglin'  janglin'  up  de  road, 

Every  b'y's  a  proper  load 

Wen  he  start'  away  from  Tracadie. 


THE  HERRING  FISHING 

Wen  de  ice  she  go  out,  aroun'  de  first'  o'  May 
Den  de  herraw  dey  com'  een  down  to  Neguac  bay. 
No  one  know'  w'en  de  word  com'  t'rough, 
So  eet's  grab  all  de  net'  an'  shove  de  canoe, 
An'  all  hand'  aboar'  for  Hay  Islan'. 

All  de  boat'  an'  de  scow'  an'  de  leaky  ol'  bateaux 
An'  de  pirog'  an'  canoe',  anyt'ing  to  mak'  her  go, 
Start  along  wit'  de  sail  an'  de  paddle  an'  de  pole 
For  to  fetch  wit'  de  tide  at  de  bass  fishin'  hole, 
All  hand'  boun'  for  Hay  Islan'. 

Den  dey  tie  on  de  stone  an'  drive  de  picquet  pole', 
An'  dey  set  de  ol'  net'  on  de  channel  by  de  shoal 
Were  de  weed'  an'  de  grass  cover'  t'ick  w'it'  de  spawn, 
An'  den  mak'  de  camp  on  de  beach  till  de  morn' 
An'  de  flood  o'  de  tide  at  Hay  Islan'. 

All  de  float'  dey  be  down  an'  dat  mean  de  net'  be  full, 
An'  dey  know  dat  ees  so  w'en  dey  tak'  hoi'  for  de  pull. 
Dere  dey  hang  in  de  mash'  by  de  honder'  in  de  row, 
44 


Nort'  Shor'  Verses  45 

An'  dey  shine  in  de  sun  lak  de  gran'  rainbow, 
All  roun'  de  boat'  at  Hay  Islan'. 

Wen  dey  shak'  out  de  feesh,  all  de  flappin'  o'  de  tail' 
On  de  boat'  feel  de  air  full  o'  shinin'  silver  scale' 
An'  dey  steeck  on  de  face  an'  de  w'isker'  an'  de  ban' 
So  dat  w'ich  be  de  herraw  an'  w'ich  be  de  man 
Dat  hard  to  say  at  Hay  Islan'. 


THE  POACHERS 

De  law,  she  fonny  t'ing  ba  gee ; 
Som'  tarn  she  mak'  de  common  sense 
An'  oder  tarn  she  mak'  eet  be 
Som'  leetle  t'ing  de  grand  offence. 
Now  tak'  eet  een  dese  riviere 
De  salmon  ac'  soch  fonny  way 
Dey  don'  ron  up  'fore  September 
An'  den  be  close  tarn,  de  law  say. 

An'  t'ink  o'  de  poor  man  who  see 
De  beeg  feesh  jompin'  by  hees  door 
Wit'  no  meat  for  hees  familee ! 
Dat  seem'  to  me  de  fullish  law. 
An'  all  de  b'y'  dey  t'ink  so  too, 
An'  w'en  dey  know  de  salmon  ron 
De  firs'  dark  night  dey  tak'  canoe 
An'  net'  an'  all  aboar'  for  fon. 

Ol'  Simon  Murray  go  en  garde. 
He  dead  now ;  good  ol'  feller  too ; 
He  purty  cute,  an'  he  work  hard 
46 


Nort'  Shor'  Verses  47 

A'  paddlin'  dat  ol'  canoe. 
Som'  tarn  me  get  de  net  Jos'  set 
An'  dere  de  Simon  'long  de  shor' 
Mos'  in  de  alder'  he  can  get, — 
An'  I  don'  feesh  dat  net  no  mor'. 


Some'  tarn  dey  set  an  ol'  net  firs' 
An'  set  de  good  net  up  mor'  high, 
So  w'en  he  com'  he  tak'  de  wors' 
An'  don'  com'  w'ere  de  oder  lie. 
Som'  tarn  dey  fool  heem,  som'  tarn  no ; 
Som'  tarn  dey  male'  de  dam  good  haul ; 
Som'  tarn  he  tak'  de  net  an'  go, 
An'  dat's  de  way  all  t'rough  de  fall. 


I  'member  me  one  treeck  all  right 
T'ree  feller  play  on  de  ol'  man; 
Dey  know  he  com'  down  home  one  night 
An'  so  dose  feller  mak'  de  plan 
Dat  tarn  dey  go  an'  feesh  de  stream, 
An'  so  de  ol'  man  never  knew 
Dey  pass  hees  place,  dey  tak'  de  team 
An'  don'  go  up  in  de  canoe. 


48  Nort'  Shor'  Verses 

Dat  all  work  fine  an'  dere  dey  be. 
Dey  tie  de  hors'  a  leetle  back, 
An'  bile  de  kettle  for  deir  tea 
Afore  de  night  com',  black,  black,  black. 
Den  een  de  bush'  by  de  piquette, 
A-list'nin'  for  ol'  Simon's  pole, 
Dey  hear  de  salmon  strike  de  net, 
A-sploshin'  w'en  de  mash  tak'  hoi'. 

Dat  soun'  good  too;  dey  know  for  sure 
Dey  plaintee  feesh  for  all  han'  dere 
W'en  dey  haul  een  an'  mak'  secure, — 
An'  den  out  on  de  riviere 
Dey  hear  de  cough  ol'  Simon  mak', 
An'  den  dey  hear  heem  bomp  de  float'; 
An'  all  de  salmon  in  de  tak' 
Seem  tryin'  to  jomp  een  hees  boat. 

Vite!  vite!  one  of  de  feller  say; 
Grab  hoi'  de  seine  an'  de  piquette 
An'  han'  dem  een  to  me  dis  way; 
Ol'  Simon  never  tak'  dis  net, 
So  den  de  feller  w'at  he  tol' 
He  tie  her  to  de  hors'  een  dere, 


Nort'  Shor'  Verses  49 

An'  w'en  ol'  Simon  got  de  hoi' 
Dey  h'ist  heem  out  o'dat  for  fair. 

He  com'  right  out  o'  de  canoe, 
Den  t'rough  de  mud  up  een  de  wood', 
Ol'  Simon  an'  de  salmon  too, 
An'  de  ol'  man  was  bawlin'  good. 
But  dey  don'  stop  de  hors'  at  all, 
An'  w'en  he  lose  de  hoi'  bimeby, 
Dey  kip  on  till  dey  out  o'  call 
An'  den  dey  mos'  near  laff  to  die. 

An'  so  he  never  tak'  dat  net : 
Dey  save  her  an'  some  feesh  beside, 
An'  w'en  he  get  back  w'ere  she  set 
Hees  canoe  gone  off  on  de  tide. 
He  purty  lame  for  walkin'  too 
But  he  get  down  some  tarn  nex'  day, 
An'  w'en  he  die  he  never  knew 
Wat  feller'  haul  deir  net  dat  way. 


PHILOMELE 


"All  dose  my  chile,  an'  dere'  sora'  mor' 
A-ronnin'  'roun'  de  place  som'  w'ere. 
Dey  de  bes'  crop  on  de  Nort'  Shor'; 
Dere  ain'  no  harves'  failin'  dere 
Wen  all  de  man  be  hommes  gallants 
De  way  dey  be  een  Canadaw. 

Sure, — w'en  me  see  me  know  de  name' 
Dey  got  mos'  all  de  name'  dere  be; 
De  pries'  he  say  las'  tarn  he  came 
He  only  got  lef  two  or  t'ree. 
Me  don'  know  den  w'at  he  mak'  do, — 
An'  still  he  give  dat  chile  dere  two. 

She  christen'  Agnes  w'en  she  born; 
Me  t'ink  dat  six  eight  year  ago ; 
An'  den  de  oder  chile  dey  lorn 
Dat  mean  de  lamb,  an'  w'en  dey  know 
Dey  holler  "baa"  w'en  she  go  by 
An'  w'en  she  hear,  dat  mak'  her  cry. 
50 


Nort'  Shor'  Verses  51 

So  she  don'  lak  be  on  de  way 
For  school  nor  erran'  to  de  stor', 
An'  w'en  me  tell  de  pries'  he  say 
He  won'  have  dose  t'ing  any  mor'. 
He  give  her  de  new  name  she  call' 
An'  dey  don'  bodder  her  at  all. 

So  Philomele  since  den  she  be 
Dat  tres  jolie,  me  t'ink  dat  so. 
Wat  ees  dat  t'ing  you  say  to  me? 
Dat  mean  de  t'rosh  you  say  you  know? 
Mon  Dieu,  don'  tell  de  oder  chile 
Nor  dey  be  w'istlin'  all  de  w'ile. 

De  pries'  he  feex  t'ing  up  befor' 

An'  put  stop  to  dat  fullish  game, 

But  me  can't  go  to  heem  som'  mor' 

An'  ax  heem  for  anoder  name. 

He  only  got  two  t'ree  mor'  lef 

An'  me  'n'  ma  femme  need  dose  oursef. 


THE  DANCE 

Wat  shall  I  'member  me  de  mos'  w'en  I  be  ol'  an'  tire', 
A-waitin'  for  de  spring  to  com'  dat  I  shall  never  see, 
An'  pass  de  tarn  wit'  de  ol'  pipe  clos'  up  besi'  de  fire, 
A-seein'  ol'  face'  een  de  smoke  dat  call  de  memorie' 
O'  de  tarn  w'en  de  blood  ron  hot  an'  wil' 
An'  de  heart  an'  han'  be  strong ; 
W'en  livin'  be  som't'ing  wort'  w'ile 
An'  life  can'  las'  too  long. 

Eet  won'  be  de  bigges'  shot  I  mak' 
On  de  dock  nor  brant  nor  goose ; 
Eet  won'  be  de  tarn  I  see  me  tak' 
To  de  tree  from  de  beeg  bull  moose. 
Eet  won'  be  de  tarn  I  mos'  near  die 
On  de  track  o'  de  caribou; 
Eet  won'  be  de  tarn  I  ketch  outsi' 
Een  de  horricane  dat  blew, 

But  me  see  een  de  smoke  som'  purty  face' 
Wit'  mout'  pour  les  bees  cheres, 
De  ribbon'  flyin'  roun'  de  wais' 
An'  flower'  een  de  hair, 
52 


Nort'  Shor'  Verses  53 

An'  me  hear  de  soun'  o'  de  stompin'  feet 
Wile  de  feedle  sing  an'  screech. 
Dat  be  de  memorie  mos'  sweet — 
De  dance  off  on  de  beach. 

De  stomp  an'  de  shoffle  on  de  sand  on  de  floor 
Soun'  lak  de  growl  o'  de  sea  on  de  shor', 
An'  pound  on  de  brain  lak  de  beat  o'  de  drum, 
Tom-tor-raw-rom,  tor-raw-rom-tor-raw-rom. 
De  head  go  'roun'  an'  de  heart-beat  com' ; 
Tom-tor-raw-rom,  tor-raw-rom-tor-raw-rom. 
De  feller  wit'  de  feedle  don'  mak'  no  soun'; 
Dose  tune'  he  play  mus'  be  sure  get  drown' 
In  de  tom-tor-raw-rom-tor-raw-rom. 

Wen  de  boss  he  com'  an'  he  say  shut  her  down 
Den  all  han'  up  for  de  all  han'  roun' 
To  de  tom-tor-raw-rom,  tor-raw-rom-tor-raw-rom; 
An'  de  girl  all  holler  w'en  he  put  out  all  de  light', 
An'  de  feller'  hoi'  dem  tight  w'en  dey  pile  out  een  de 

night 

Wit'  de  tom-tor-raw-rom  still  a-tompin'  een  de  head 
An'  on  dose  night'  nobody  go  to  bed, 
For  de   tom-tor-raw-rom,   tor-raw-rom,   tor-raw-rom, 
Tor-raw-rom-tor-raw-rom-tor-  raw-rom. 


54  Nort'  Shor'  Verses 

I  tak  een  all  de  dance'  dere  den, 
Firs'  on  de  floor  an'  up  de  las', 
An'  I  don'  mos'  remember  w'en 
I  let  de  purty  face  go  pas'. 
An'  den  one  night  at  de  Gullee 
I  see  a  new  girl  t'rough  de  door, 
An'  I  know  dat  de  girl  for  me, 
An'  I  no  play  dose  game'  no  mor'. 

I  ax  her  to  dance  an'  she  say  dat  she  will  do ; 
Tom-tor-raw-rom,  tor-raw-rom,  tor-raw-rom ; 
An'  eet  ain'  very  long  afore  I  know  dat  she  knew 
Dat  I  be  her  man  an'  her  tarn  com'  too; 
Tom-tor-raw-rom,  tor-raw-rom,  tor-raw-rom; 
So  I  hug  her  tight  an'  she  hug  me  som' ; 
Tom-tor-raw-rom,  tor-raw-rom,  tor-raw-rom; 
Her  feller  see  dat  an'  he  want  to  mak'  de  fight, 
But  I  soon  feex  dat  man  all  right. 
Tom-tor-raw-rom,  tor-raw-rom,  tor-raw-rom; 
An'  w'en  all  de  light'  dey  go  out, — no  heed; 
De  star'  mak'  all  de  light'  we  need. 
Tom-tor-raw-rom,  tor-raw-rom,  tor-raw-rom; 
Tom-tor-raw-rom,  tor-raw-rom,  tor-raw-rom. 


Nort'  Shor'  Verses  55 

Wen  de  fishin'  be  done,  I  sail  her  'cross  de  bay, 
An'  \ve  go  to  de  pries'  an'  be  maries, 
An'  de  frien'  an  de  neighbor'  an'  all  han'  com' 
An'  dance  t'ree  day  to  de  tom-tor-raw-rom, 
Tor-raw-rom,  tor-raw-rom,  tor-raw-rom. 

Dose  be  de  t'ing  I  'member  me  w'en  I  be  settin'  so ; 

Dose  be  de  fines'  memories,  so  far  I  see  dem  now. 

Som'  o'  dose  t'ing'  I  bes'  forget  dey  be  de  one'  won'  go  ; 

I  s'pose  dose  oder  face'  sure  com'  een  spite  o'all  de  vow, 

Wit'  de  tom-tor-raw-rom,  tor-raw-rom,  tor-raw-rom, 

Tor-raw-rom,  tor-raw-rom,  tor-raw-rom. 

But  eef  she  be  dere  so  I  hoi'  her  han' 

De  waitin'  won'  be  so  hard  to  stan' 

For  she  hear  too  an'  onderstan' 

De  tom-tor-raw-rom-tor-raw-rom,  tor-raw-rom, 

Tor-raw-rom,  tor-raw-rom,  tor-raw-rom. 


THE  LAWSUIT 

Jim  Rober'son  he  kip  de  stor', 
De  one  dey  call  Black  Jim, 
An'  Joe  Connor  he  buy  de  flour, 
One  barr'l  off' n  him. 
Joe  never  have  no  monnaie  'tall 
An'  he  boun'  for  de  wood', 
An'  give  de  order  for  hees  peeg 
For  mak'  de  bill  stan'  good. 

Jim  haul  de  flour  to  hees  place 

Wat  de  ol'  woman  kip, 

An'  dere  he  see  de  fine  yong  peeg 

Besi'  de  door,  aslip. 

So  Jim  he  see  he  get  de  peeg 

But  he  don'  not'ing  say, 

An'  t'ink  he  let  her  fat  heem  up 

'Fore  takin'  heem  away. 

Well,  dat  raise  hell;  anoder  man 
He  com'  wit  order  off'n  Joe, 
An'  after  row  wit'  ol'  woman 
56 


Nort'  Shor'  Verses  57 

He  tak'  de  peeg  an  go. 

So  w'en  Jim  t'ink  he  plaintee  beeg 

An'  tak'  de  team  an  call, 

Ba  gee,  he  fin'  he  get  no  peeg, 

An'  pork  be  high  dat  fall. 


Now  Jim,  he  Jostice  o'  de  Peace, 

An'  w'en  he  hear  Joe  stay 

Back  home  ag'in,  he  sen'  polis 

To  sorve  de  papier 

Dat  say  Joe  com'  to  co'rt  dat  day, 

An'  give  heem  onderstan' 

Eef  he  don't  get  de  monnaie  pay' 

He  fetch  de  peeg  or  man. 


O'  co'rse  de  polis  fin'  no  peeg, 
So  he  tak'  hoi'  o'  Joe, 
An'  Joe  he  swear  an'  talkin'  beeg 
He  be  dam  eef  he  go; 
But  de  polis  he  hoi'  de  grip 
An'  chock  heem  een  de  team 
An'  set  on  Joe  de  res'  de  trip 
He  haul  heem  back  to  Jim. 


58  Nort'  Shor'  Verses 

He  shov'  Joe  een  de  back  room  dere 
Were  Jim  tak'  heem  een  han' 
An'  say  he  got  dat  treeck  to  square 
Or  to  de  jail  he  Ian'. 
Den  Joe  he  try  to  mak'  de  sneak 
An'  get  out  t'rough  de  door, 
But  Jim  an'  de  polls  grab  queeck 
An'  all  han'  to  de  floor. 


De  table  fall,  de  stove  she  go, 
De  chair  dey  keeck  aroun', 
An'  mak  dat  room  de  holy  show 
Wile  dey  hoi'  Connor  down. 
Bimeby  dey  feex  heem  so  he  lay; 
He  don'  fool  dem,  no  fear, 
Wen  een  walk  oder  man  an'  say 
"Dey  tell  Joe  Connor  here." 


"He  be,"  say  Jim,  "dat's  true  dey  tol;" 

An'  den  de  feller  say, 

"Com'  Joe,  how  'bout  dat  peeg  you  stole 

Wen  you  leave  me  las'  May?" 

"By  dam,"  say  Jim,  "dat  leave  me  beat; 


Nort'  Shor'  Verses  59 

De  peeg  an'  case  I  los' ; — " 

An'  den  he  stan'  Joe  on  hees  feet — 

"But  I  collec'  de  cos'." 

De  firs'  ponch  hit  heem  een  de  eye, 
De  nex'  one  on  de  jaw; 
Sure,  Joe  don'  need  look  at  de  sky 
For  watch  de  star'  he  saw. 
Den  Jim  he  say  to  oder  man 
"You  bes'  collec'  your  pay 
Wile  de  co'rt  an'  polis  on  han' 
See  he  don'  get  away." 

Well,  w'en  dat  feller  he  get  t'rough 

Joe  look  lak'  he  gone  blin', 

An'  sure  he  mus'  be  black  an'  blue 

Wit'  keeck  on  de  behin'. 

An'  den  dey  t'row  heem  out  de  door, 

An'  w'ile  he  ron  away 

De  feller'  standin'  front  de  stor' 

T'ink  jostice  done  dat  day. 


THE  SINKBOX 

At  las'  de  brant  com'  in  de  bay. 

Dey  com'  on  de  nor-wes'  win'  las'  night. 

Dis  evenin'  I  hear  feller  say 

He  see  dem  on  de  bar'  a  fright. 

Sure  I  don'  lose  anoder  day 

If  de  sinkbox  be  dry  an'  tight. 

I  wish  I  know  dey  com'  ba  gee ! 
If  she  float  at  all  I  be  out  dere, 
Waitin'  for  bre'k  o'  day  to  see, 
Hearin'  de  callin'  in  de  air; 
I  rader  lie  in  de  sinkbox,  me, 
Dan  any  oder  t'ing  I  care. 

It  don'  seem  lak  dere  be  moch  fun 
A-startin'  out  beneat'  de  star' 
In  de  col'  win'  to  mak  de  run 
Across  de  bay  down  to  de  bar' 
An'  get  all  set  afore  de  sun 
Com'  up  and  show  dem  w'ere  you  are, 
60 


Nort'  Shor'  Verses  61 

But  dere  som'  t'ing  about  dat  game 
If  you  don't  know  it  can'  be  tol'. 
Som'  way  it  alway'  be  de  same, 
Som'  way  it  never  seem  grow  ol', 
An'  in  de  heart  it  mak'  de  flame 
Dat  kip  out  all  de  wet  and  col'. 

Down  in  de  box  de  win'  don'  blow, 
So  I  light  up  de  pipe  mebbe, 
An'  watch  de  star'  as  out  dey  go 
Wile  de  sun  crawl  up  out  de  sea 
An'  warm  de  sky  into  de  glow 
Were  jus'  afore  de  black  night  be. 

'Bout  den  de  plover  start  de  cry 
Off  on  de  ma'sh  by  de  sandhill. 
'Bout  den  de  gull'  begin  to  fly 
Trough  de  dim  light  so  gray  an'  still 
You  t'ink,  as  dey  go  driftin'  by 
Dey  ghost'  o'  oder  bird'  you  kill. 

Den  com'  de  shelldock  an'  de  coot' 
But  me  no  t'ink  dey  wort'  de  shell'. 
Ba  gee,  dat  tarn  I  mos'  near  shoot! 


62  Nort'  Shor'  Verses 

Som'  tarn  dose  shag  be  hard  to  tell. 

Ah !  see  dose  black  dock  mak'  de  scoot !     . 

Dey  look  in  to  de  box  too  well. 

An'  den  ker-r-ruck,  ker-r-ruk  soun'  clear 

Across  de  win',  an'  on  de  sky 

I  see  dem  makin'  de  straight  steer 

Wit'  de  decoy  right  in  de  eye. 

Kip  down  an'  dey  com'  plaintee  near. 

Now  up,  an'  let  bot'  barrel'  fly ! 

Well,  it's  dose  t'ing  you  don'  forget. 
I  rader  see  dose  beatin'  wing 
W'en  in  to  de  decoy  dey  set 
Dan  any  oder  livin'  t'ing. 
Ouai,  more  nor  de  salmon  in  de  net, 
Nor  listen  to  de  robin  sing. 

It  all  mak'  plaintee  yarn,  no  fear, 
An'  me,  I  tol'  jus'  one  to  you, 
About  de  man  I  guide  las'  year 
An'  w'at  I  tell  I  see  him  do. 
Ba  gee,  dere  ain'  no  man  roun'  here 
Care  try  an'  put  de  sam'  treeck  t'rough. 


Nort'  Shor'  Verses  63 

We  set  on  de  deep  flat'  dat  day; 
Las'  year  de  eel-grass  t'ick  for  fair. 
I  tol'  him  'fore  I  go  away 
De  water  deep  an'  he  tak'  care 
Don'  fill  de  box  so  long  he  stay, 
Or  he  drown  'fore  I  get  back  dere. 

So  off  I  go  an'  down  he  lie. 
Long  tarn  it  don'  seem  be  much  use. 
Som'  flock  o'  brant  go  flyin'  by 
But  for  de  decoy'  mak'  refuse, 
An'  den  I  see  off  on  de  sky 
Below  de  box  an'  ol'  gray  goose. 

He  lower  in  an'  set  de  wing; 

My  man  got  sure  shot  I  be  boun', 

But  he  don'  seem  to  see  not'ing, 

Wen  bang,  de  smoke  com'  out  de  groun' 

An'  den  de  oder  barrel  bring 

De  ol'  gray  goose  a-tumblin'  down. 

An'  den  my  feller  wave  his  arm' 

An'  holler  lak  he  all  possess'. 

I  don'  see  how  he  com'  to  harm; 


64   '  Nort'  Shor'  Verses 

Mebbe  de  goose  swim  off  I  guess. 
In  dere  de  grass  mak'  plaintee  calm, 
But  I  h'ist  up  an'  do  my  bes'. 

Me  jus'  in  tarn;  in  de  canoe 
I  haul  him  out  an'  down  she  roll. 
An'  w'at  you  t'ink  dat  feller  do  ? 
He  shoot  de  box,  his  hand'  so  col', 
An'  den  he  tak'  de  ol'  goose  too 
An'  pull  de  shell'  an'  plug  de  hole! 

Dat  tak'  mos'  nerve  I  never  saw. 
An'  now  he  gone  to  war  away 
To  fight  for  France  an'  Canadaw. 
I  t'ink  if  he  boss  dose  armees 
Some  tarn  he  feex  dat  emperaw 
Jus'  lak  he  feex  dat  goose  dat  day. 


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